Elskan norn minn
by ThePhantomPixie
Summary: Translation - My Darling Witch "The threat of death kept them going until the very last iota of willpower deserted them. In many cases they did not live long enough to see it through. Spirit was a great asset in battle; but in war without the proper training they were merely canon fodder"


**Disclaimer:** I own none of the recognisable content from either works of **J.K.****'s** **Harry Potter series** or **Marvel**. All original content and situations belongs to me. I make no money from this Fanfiction and write simply for pleasure.

* * *

><p>The battle of Hogwarts was endless. All around her the sounds of her friends, her classmates screaming for mercy. Others cried in pain, wailed at the loss of someone they knew. They were not mentally prepared for how the war would look when it was right on their doorstep. They were all just children. Too young to be trusted with the complexity of Apparition in the eyes of the Government sworn to protect them; yet fighting for their very existence against hardened veterans of war. Of battles they could not even begin to imagine. Everyone had tired long before now, but the threat of death kept them going until the very last iota of willpower deserted them. In many cases they did not live long enough to see it through. Spirit was a great asset in battle; but in war without the proper training they were merely canon fodder. Some of them may not have even began puberty when they saw the very life drain from someone's eyes. Watched, until someone they may have known became nothing more than a shell. A lifeless corpse.<p>

A casualty of war. Calculated risk.

Collateral damage.

The rising dust around her from the crumbling ruins of her beloved school made her throat burn. Her breath ragged and uneven. Everything hurt. Cuts and burns littered her entire body. Remnants of spells that grazed her skin and left every growing scars pulled at her muscles as she ran. But she couldn't stop. The fighting still raged on and she had to continue, people depended on her.

"Reducto!" she cried out, twisting her wand to the side and blasting a death eater charging for her. He spun to the side and dropped down dead, his left side completely obliterated. She felt nothing for the death of this person; they were faceless targets that had she not dispatched herself would have potentially done the same to her.

She felt someone grab her by the elbow and pull her down to the ground with a thud. Instinctively she tried to scramble away but their grip was firm. A flash of purple zipped above her and she looked to the figure holding her down. The shock of red hair led her to believe it was a Weasley but she had no time to confirm before she was blasted back with a hex and thrown into an already unsteady wall. It shook with the force of her impact but, to it's merit remained upright. The castle and her magic was slowly beginning to drain into nothing, but there were some things within her control still. "Confringo!" She cried out, aiming for the masked figure hurtling towards her. The target blocked the spell with the precision of a master duellist. She had no hope in a spell battle so she ran. Her legs clenched agonisingly with each step she took until she finally stumbled over a lying corpse, an attempt to leap over them gone awry in her haste.

She turned to face what may be her end, when a blast of blinding light hit the Deatheater and time itself slowed down. Hermione watched her attacker ever so slowly raise their arm, as if trying to do so in thick tar. She wasn't going to wait around to hear what sort of spell he would use on her.

She hastily flicked her wrist and almost cried out in pain as she cried "Duro!" and watched the target turn into solid stone. The curse stopping them dead in their track in the position time had slowed them to. Looking down at her wrist Hermione saw with dismay that she had dislocated one of her fingers. Being her casting arm there was little she could do for it in the field of battle. She would have to carry on regardless. There was no time.

The young witch made to move, time seemingly now returning to normal - an adrenaline fuelled illusion perhaps? when once more she was thrown back by a hex. This hitting her square in the side and making her howl in agony, an already large spell burn now growing across her side. The pain travelled to her spine and tore its way to the back of her neck as she arched and wailed in agony. A snarl from behind her caused painful shivers down her inflamed spine. The air became thick with the overpowering stench of rotten flesh and though she wanted to, Hermione found herself unable to get away. She knew exactly who it was that had cursed her.

"Well, well if it isn't the mudblood bitch who caused Bellatrix so much trouble." he growled, reaching down and grabbing at her arm, making her scream out again. The pain was intensifying. Unlike the Cruciatus curse which drove a person mad, used the worst pain imaginable ... somehow this curse was centred on her back. It made every movement painful but not to the point that she could retreat into her mind to get away from it, just enough that she feared she would never recover. "I'll make you regret what you did, bitch. The dark lord was very unhappy that you had slipped away from us." He licked his lips and reached his muzzle like face down to the side of her throat before inhaling deeply. It made her stomach turn, wondering what this beast would do to her. He was one who was not shy on tearing humans to pieces, bleeding them dry or ... she dare not finish her thought. "Oh yea; I'm gonna enjoy you." he whispered into the side of her ear. Hermione whimpered in distress.

"Get off of me!" She cried out, trying desperately to break free without aggravating her already straining muscles. The pain was so bad she was almost willing to give up; to submit.

_"Beygjum kné vor fyrir mér, villa dýrið!"_ A voice commanded over the crown. Once more time ground to almost a halt, like everyone was moving through thick tar. _"Ég býð þér að kneel_" it spoke once more, coming from behind her. Hermione couldn't understand a word and the harsh syllables put her on edge. To her horror, Greyback slowly loosened his grip and slowly moved into a submissive kneel. Bent on one knee with his fist clasped across his chest, head bowed. "Good." The voice spoke now in English. The change caused her to shiver. Whatever made Greyback kneel was surely not someone she wanted to battle with in her state. _"Ég er höfundur nafna þínum. Hlýða mér, úlfur ..._ or I surely will destroy you and your kin." The last growled words made her shiver, but it seemed to do the trick and fenrir was making strange noises almost like he was a scolded house pet.

"As for you ..." Hermione felt something lift her into the air, she heard no spell being uttered and she could not decide if that made her more or less terrified. "You are worthy ... _Norn."_

With that, her world fell into darkness.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Translations<strong>_

_Beygjum kné vor fyrir mér, villa dýrið! - Kneel before me foul beast_

_Ég býð þér að kneel - I command you to kneel_

_Ég er höfundur nafna þínum. Hlýða mér, úlfur - I am the creator of your namesake, Obey me wolf!_


End file.
